


in my bones.

by lordvoldyfarts



Series: california series. [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 03:11:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5851777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordvoldyfarts/pseuds/lordvoldyfarts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after Clarke took Lexa in, they're living separate lives. One night, Clarke shows up at Lexa's door, looking for a place to stay. Maybe it's karma - or maybe it's fate but she lets her in, the same way Clarke had a few years previous. Soon, they find certain events have a way of repeating themselves, even if time is consistently working against them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in my bones.

**Author's Note:**

> sequel to sparks fly, the middle of the trilogy! enjoy ;)

There’s a paw in her face.

Without opening her eyes, she reaches up and tries to move it off of her cheek. Ginger lets out a loud meow that’s filled with clear discontent that Lexa ignores. “Let me sleep,” Lexa mutters, turning her head away from the cat.

She’s halfway asleep again when she feels a gentle pushing against her nose. She jumps and one of her eyes opens. Her nostrils flare when she sees Ginger standing directly in front of her face. She notices Lexa’s open eye and she meows again, loudly still, and nudges Lexa’s cheek with her nose. Lexa’s nose scrunches. “You’re a pest,” she mumbles, reaching her hand up to scratch just underneath her chin. Her eyes fall closed and soft purrs send vibrations through her body, which Lexa feels against her hands. “You aren’t going to let me sleep, are you?” She asks, still moving her fingers. Ginger’s eyes reopen and Lexa swears she raises an eyebrow at her. She sighs sitting up in bed, her hand falling away from Ginger’s chin. She glances at the clock. 6:24am. Much as she expected.

Her hair is in a braid, the end of it hanging just next to her arm. Ginger bats at it with her paw. Lexa rolls her eyes. “At least I don’t have to buy you toys,” she murmurs. She knows Ginger won’t let her go back to sleep, not unless she’s fed, watered, and played with and by the time she does that, she won’t even want to sleep.

So Lexa moves and swings her legs over the edge of the bed, stretching her arms over her head. She yawns and as she does, Ginger trots across the bed and jumps off of the edge, heading toward the door. The room is dark and Lexa isn’t certain that she won’t run into any boxes. Mostly, she still hasn’t unpacked. She hasn’t had much time to even….think about taking everything out of the boxes. She’s got three manuscripts to read and give to her boss before the weekend is over.

The only things that  _ are  _ unpacked are her ‘World’s Greatest Aunt’ mug that Anya had given her for her most recent birthday (she nearly cried when Anya gave it to her - and she certainly didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’s  _ not  _ her Aunt) and a few plates that she’s been washing and reusing since she’s been here.

It’s strange, having her own apartment. She’s never lived alone. She’s always been….with people. With her parents, with the Griffin’s, then with Daniel, Gus, and Anya. Now she’s alone with her cat.

Maybe that’s adulthood. Maybe that’s growing up.

But really, nobody ever told her growing up would be this lonely.

She flicks the light on in the kitchen (that’s got slightly rickety old cabinets and old counters - but it’s her’s and she can’t believe she’s lucky enough to say that) and stands on her tiptoes to get the cat food from on top of the fridge. She shakes the plastic container and then Ginger is at her feet, meowing expectantly. Lexa walks over to Ginger’s food bowl, which sits next to the fridge, and she bends down. She gives her two scoops of food and a rub on her head before standing and putting the food back on top of the fridge.

She starts making herself a pot of coffee. She walks to the living room and grabs a manuscript before moving back to the kitchen and leaning against the edge of the counter, reading while she waits for the coffee to brew. 

The early morning silence is nice - not that she’d voluntarily wake before the sun rises on a typical Saturday but she doesn’t quite mind it. The coffee finishes and she pours herself some, fixing it with two sugars and just a splash of cream. She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth and snaps her fingers, “Come on, Ginger, let’s go watch the sunrise,” she says, calling the cat to her side. Ginger sidles up next to her, rubbing her body against Lexa’s bare calf. She opens the sliding door and leans forward, resting her elbows on top of the railing. She cradles her coffee cup between her hands, taking small sips. She watches the sun rise over the city line and she feels Ginger wrap her fluffy tail around her ankle, “How’d we get so lucky?” Lexa murmurs, looking down at the cat at her feet. She just looks up at her, emerald eyes wide. Lexa smiles, shaking her head. She knows the cat won’t answer.

Sometimes, she still can’t believe this is….her life. That she gets to live in this apartment that doesn’t have a pest problem or noisy neighbors or where she doesn’t have to wonder if the sound she just heard was fireworks or gunshots. She pinches the skin on her wrist, just to be absolutely certain that she’s not dreaming. She isn’t.

It’s been almost six years since her parents kicked her out. Almost six years since her own personal rock bottom. And she’d fought tooth and nail to climb her way out of it. She’d had some help from Gus and Daniel, though not much. She refused to let them give her precedent over Anya. She was their daughter - Lexa was not. She could hold her own. She’d take the room in their house, let them cook meals, but she never let them pay her way. She could handle herself. The value of hard work was never lost on her.

They fought her on it - of course they did, but her stubborn persistence eventually won out and they came to a sort of compromise. If she was ever in over her head, drowning in issues that she couldn’t fix, she had to promise to tell them. And she had to let them cover whatever costs of school  _ weren’t  _ covered by financial aid, though she’s very insistent about paying them back. She isn’t in this alone anymore. And that’s worked well. She worked her way through college, taking odd jobs here and there to pay for any extraneous items. 

And now she’s here. A month out of college, already working, with her own apartment that she’s paying for.

It’s everything she’s ever wanted. More than she’d ever dared to imagine was even possible. 

(And really, she tries not to think about the only thing that could make this  _ perfect _ . Because it’s not worth it. She’s never coming back.)

-

There’s a girl she works with named Emily.

She’s pretty, a blonde, and her eyes linger just a little too long on Lexa’s lips when she’s talking in the break room.

They kiss in the copy room and she puts her hand up Lexa’s skirt, underneath the lace of her underwear and bites at the skin beneath Lexa’s ear. Her breathing is heavy and hot against her neck and Lexa just wants her to fucking kiss her - she’s not here for the intimate middle ground.

Lexa grinds her hips against hers and lets her know exactly what she wants.

She takes her home that night, makes sure Ginger is sleeping comfortably in the living room, and she locks the bedroom door behind her.

(And in the dark, her eyes aren’t brown and her shoulders aren’t so slight - but that’s something else entirely.)

They wake the next morning, to Ginger’s meowing outside of the door, and Lexa apologizes to Emily for the cat. She rubs at her eyes, grinning sleepily, and she says, “It’s fine, my cat does the same thing. Got any coffee?” She asks, climbing out of bed and not bothering to cover herself. Lexa watches her walk away and she thinks maybe, this could be more than a one night thing.

They drink coffee at the kitchen table and Emily glances at all of the still unpacked boxes sitting around the apartment. “Correct me if I’m wrong but you do live here, right?” She asks and Lexa smirks, just a little, and she nods.

“I do,” she replies and Emily raises an eyebrow, smiling against her mug.

“Then why does this place still look like the inside of a U-Haul?” She asks and Lexa shakes her head.

“I haven’t had the time,” she says simply and now it’s Emily’s turn to shake her head. She stands, and she’s still mostly naked, only wearing an open button down she’d swiped from Lexa’s closet, and Lexa can’t do anything but watch her. She moves toward a box and rips it open. She glances over at Lexa with a quirked eyebrow.

“You going to help me or you just going to sit back and enjoy the view?” She asks and Lexa stands from the table, walking toward the cabinets to grab a pair of scissors.

“We may need these,” she says, holding them up and Emily snickers. Lexa glares and Emily quiets, her pupils widening just slightly. 

“You’re kinda hot when you get assertive,” and then Lexa blushes.

Two hours and three more cups of coffee later, they’re nearly finished. Emily’s on a box that has no label and Lexa is sorting clothing in her closet. From behind her, she hears, “Who’s this?” And she spins around to see Emily holding an old photograph that has Lexa pressed up against another person, smiling so hard she looks as if she’d nearly split her face. Lexa’s heart nearly stops. She’d thought she’d gotten rid of all of those pictures. One of them must have found its way into her things. She takes the picture from between Emily’s fingertips. She shakes her head.

“Nobody. Just a girl I used to know,” she mutters, walking back to the closet, the picture in her hands. She shoves it to the back of the shelf she just finished organizing.

She hasn’t taken the Clarke Griffin skeleton out of her closet in years and she doesn’t intend to do so now.

-

Emily leaves and Lexa pushes her out of her head - it was  _ fun _ . That’s all. That’s all it ever could be. Fun. Anything more than that and it’s dangerous. It’s swimming into deep water without knowing how to swim and Lexa prefers to keep her feet planted firmly in the sand. She knows what deep water means - and it’s nothing good.

She’s nearly an hour away from her family now (and it’s still a bit strange to call them that but it’s what they are, even if the tightness in her chest says otherwise) so she can’t just drive up and visit.

She sits cross-legged in front of her coffee table, her laptop resting in front of her. She’s got a coffee mug on a coaster next to her computer and her manuscripts next to that. 

She has a Skype date, as it were, set up with Gus and Anya. Daniel is out of town on business and it’s fine - because if Lexa’s being honest, mostly she just wants to talk with Anya. There’s something about her five year old disposition that...grounds her. Brings her back.

The screen lights up and she sees the familiar kitchen and then Anya in Gus’ lap. She’s grinning brightly and Lexa immediately notices her missing front tooth. She knows Anya wants her to notice so she pretends that she doesn’t. Gus starts to speak, “Notice anything different?” He asks and his eyes are glistening with something like amusement and Lexa narrows her eyes.

“Did you paint the kitchen?” She says and she glances at Anya, whose nose is crinkling and her eyes are lighting up with that familiar fire and Lexa knows she’s got her. “It looks greener,” she continues and Gus can’t even keep his laughter to himself now. Anya huffs and leans up toward the camera, baring her teeth again.

“ _ No _ , Aunt Lexa! I lost my tooth!” She exclaims and Lexa widens her eyes.

“Oh of course, I was wondering what that hole in your mouth was about,” she murmurs with a smile, her heart still thudding at Anya’s exclamation of  _ Aunt Lexa _ . She’s not sure that’s something she’s ever going to get used to hearing.

They talk for an hour and then Gus has to get Anya ready for bed. He tells her to wait and she does. She picks up a manuscript and a highlighter and starts to scan through it while she waits for Gus to come back. When he does, he has his hair tied up in a bun on the top of his head and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks at her with a concerned expression. “Are you taking care of yourself?” He asks and she bites down on her lip. She nods.

“As best I can,” she murmurs and he sighs.

“Why’d you have to go so far away, kid? It’s hard to take care of you through a computer screen,” he says and Lexa dips her head, her chin hitting her collarbone.

“It isn’t your job to protect me, Gus,” she mutters though it lacks any kind of angry conviction, any weight. She’d thrown words like that around with weight enough in the five years she’d lived with him and though she doesn’t say it to hurt him now - the sentiment holds true. He shakes his head.

“Of course it is,” he says simply and it’s something she’s heard thousands of times before.

She doesn’t fight it this time. She just lets the warm feeling fill her. 

-

Two months pass and she manages to find her niche here.

She’s still seeing Emily, despite her better judgment.

She didn’t want to, not initially. She’d wanted to do what she always did. Say it was a fun night but that she wasn’t ready for anything more serious and that she’d hoped she understood.

Somehow, when she’d tried to shoot off her well rehearsed spiel, the words got stuck in her throat and she just  _ couldn’t _ . It wasn’t like Emily was different in any special way. She was like any other girl that Lexa had fucked. Beautiful but missing something. But she knows how to fuck her and gives her the best orgasms she can remember having in years so she’s worth keeping around.

She makes sure she knows though that this isn’t a relationship. That Lexa isn’t her girlfriend. She won’t be the one to take her out to the movies or be the one to go home and meet her parents for Christmas.

It’s an exchange of pleasure and nothing more than that (because Lexa can’t let it be anything more than that - but Emily is the closest she’s come to  _ maybe  _ wanting something more. If only she were brave enough to admit it). 

Emily’s in the kitchen, in that same t-shirt she’d stolen from Lexa that first day. Somehow, it had become hers. The one she always swipes from Lexa’s closet when she needs to cover herself up. She’s on the phone with her boss, arguing from what Lexa can tell. She’s sitting at the kitchen table, leaning her head against her palm. Lexa spies Ginger climb onto the kitchen table and start rubbing her head against the back of Emily’s hand. Emily reaches out, though still not breaking eye contact with the table, and gently pets Ginger on the head while she speaks into the phone.

(Yeah, maybe she is ready for something more).

Emily hangs up a few moments later. She drags a hand through her hair and walks back to the bed, where Lexa is still laying. She falls back onto it, her head falling next to Lexa’s arm on the pillow. “What do you think my chances of getting away with murdering my boss are?” She murmurs and Lexa chuckles, though it’s quiet.

“Slim, if not non-existent,” Lexa replies, moving her hand from its resting position to stroke through Emily’s hair.

They sit like that for a few moments before Emily shifts, curling into Lexa’s side and resting her head on the top of Lexa’s thigh. Lexa still keeps her hand moving through Emily’s hair. “Want to go down on me so I forget my responsibilities?” Emily asks, looking up at Lexa with a smirk.

And so she does.

-

Work is kicking her ass and she swears she barely has time to  _ exist  _ anymore.

It’s a Friday night and she’s got on a pair of sweatpants and a ratty old tank top. She has a glass of wine in her hands and she’s finally catching up on this week’s episodes of….well everything.

Her phone rings just before she’s about to press play on an episode of The Blacklist from three weeks ago. Emily. She wonders if she should just let it ring because Emily  _ knows  _ this is Lexa’s night to herself, she’d told her the previous evening.

Which means it’s probably important.

And as much Lexa tries to convince herself that she doesn’t quite care, she can’t manage. So she presses answer. “I know you said not to call, but I’m starting The Blacklist from a few weeks ago and you’re the only one I know who loves this show as much as I do, so,” Emily rambles and Lexa can’t really stop the smile from pulling at the corner of her mouth. Lexa stops her.

“Order Thai and come over,” Lexa says and she intends it to be a suggestion but really, she’s never been good at just suggesting anything to it sounds a lot like a command. She hears Emily snicker.

“Alright, boss. I’ve mentioned how much I like it when you give me orders right?” She says and her tone goes flirtatious and she’s glad Emily can’t see the way her cheeks go bright red.

“You’ve mentioned,” Lexa responds dryly. “I’m giving you twenty and then I’m pressing play,” she says and then she hangs up because her throat is starting to go dry and she knows that if her voice so much as cracks even slightly, she’ll never hear the end of it. 

She pulls her phone from her pocket, flipping through Instagram to pass the time before Emily arrives.

Not too long after, the doorbell rings. Lexa’s brow furrows. She’s early. Lexa didn’t expect her for at least another half hour.

She stands, dropping her phone on the couch cushion, wiping her sweaty palms. She walks to the door, opening it swiftly, barely looking into the doorframe, “You’re early…” She trails off when she sees who’s on the other side of the door.

“Clarke.”

-

She looks almost the same as she did five years ago. Her face is a little older, a little more worn but in a nice way, but she’s still undeniably  _ Clarke _ . She’s still got the same face Lexa had fallen in love with all those years ago and god it still aches as if it had been yesterday. The same face Lexa’s fingers traced millions of times, only half in reality (though it feels nearly as good in fantasy). She has a suitcase gripped in her hand and sunglasses that cost more than the rent Lexa pays for this apartment and really, Lexa had forgotten just how exorbitantly rich Clarke is.

She can’t tell if she’s happy to see her. She doesn’t think so. Happiness feels like...something more than this. It feels like champagne bubbles in her stomach. Not rapid heart beats and dryness in her throat. 

She can’t do anything but stare. She hasn’t seen her in years. The last time had been….well, had been their break up (if you can even call it that because Lexa isn’t entirely sure you can break up with someone you never dated). She’s fairly certain she never sent her a change of address postcard so Lexa isn’t quite sure  _ how  _ Clarke even found this apartment. She furrows her brow. “How did you get this address?” She blurts and maybe that’s not the first thing that she should have said but she’s never been good at thinking things through when it comes to Clarke. Even now.

Clarke pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, moving her suitcase from hand to the other, “I went to Gu and Daniel’s place first. Daniel told me you moved. I thought I was going to have to play bad cop to get the address out of him but he handed it over pretty quickly….” Clarke trails off when she notices that Lexa still isn’t smiling.

“Why are you here, Clarke?” Lexa says and already she sounds defeated, as if she’s conceding a battle that hasn’t even been thought of yet. Clarke’s eyes close and her face scrunches up.

“I…” She pauses, “I needed to come back down to earth.” She mutters and Lexa isn’t sure she entirely understands what she means but it doesn’t quite matter - she thought of her. That  _ does  _ matter. So she pushes the door open and takes a step backward.

“Okay,” Lexa says and Clarke’s eyes widen in clear surprise.

“Just like that?” She asks and Lexa shrugs.

“I told you - if you ever needed me, I would be here for you and I meant that, Clarke. A promise has no expiration date.” Lexa murmurs and she really  _ does  _ mean that, as much as she wishes that she didn’t. Clarke’s eyes go soft.

“Thank you,” She whispers, walking forward and pulling the suitcase behind her.

Lexa waits until she’s out of earshot to whisper, “Of course.”

-

She’s standing in the middle of the room, like an expensive piece of art in a run down museum that just doesn’t belong. Maybe it’s the fidgeting or maybe it’s the way she still looks like a marble statue that Lexa finds too beautiful to touch.

The initial shock of seeing Clarke on the other side of the door has worn off now and the weight of the awkward silence between them has settled. Clarke is glancing from wall to wall and Lexa feels like her brain has short circuited. Ginger comes out from underneath the table, her sensitive nose catching wind of a new scent in the house. One that’s nearly the same as five years ago and as Lexa inhales, she feels the familiar dizziness in her head. Sensory memory is one tricky bastard.

Clarke leans down, rubbing her fingers gently on top of Ginger’s chin and she sees the pupils in Ginger’s eyes going wide and she thinks about warning her but then, Ginger’s mouth is open and she’s chomping on Clarke’s finger, raising a paw to hit her. Lexa’s eyes widen and Clarke backs off, moving her hand away with a shaky sort of smile. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m not really a cat person,” She jokes and Lexa doesn’t really smile because this is strange. This isn’t her life anymore.  _ Clarke  _ isn’t her life anymore. Part of her feels like she’s seventeen again, sitting on that all too comfortable bed in the Griffin house, listening to Clarke talk about her day in her school uniform. Then the other, larger part, feels like this is some out of body experience. A lucid dream, maybe. Because Clarke isn’t really here. She’s been gone for too long that her whole existence in Lexa’s life has started to feel like some hazy, distant dream with a blurry picture that only comes into focus if she squints.

Like a good story that Lexa can’t quite figure out if she made up.

But now she’s here and she’s in front of her and she’s making jokes like no time has passed.

But it had.

She was twenty two and something like settled. She’s sure Clarke was too.

So the question remains. Why was she here?

“She’s never been a people person,” Lexa says back because she won’t ask - she told her that she wouldn’t and if there’s one thing Lexa still puts stock in, it’s a promise. Clarke smiles.

“But you’ve always been a cat person, haven’t you?” Clarke replies and Lexa bites her bottom lip.

“Well, they’ve had a tendency to treat me better than people have,” and it’s meant to sound like a joke but instead, it’s bitter. Clarke wrinkles her nose. She’s ready to open her mouth to say something but Lexa shakes her head. “How long do you need to stay?” Lexa asks because this can’t be forever - this can’t be her karma for intruding on Clarke for months. Because she has a life. One that Clarke is not, and cannot, be part of.

“A few days. I’ll be out of your hair before you even realize that I’m here,” Clarke says and Lexa has a difficult time believing that because she’s already  _ acutely  _ aware of Clarke’s presence. Lexa just nods.

“I don’t have an extra bedroom,” Lexa says simply and Clarke looks behind her. She pats the arm of the couch and smiles.

“This is fine,” she responds. Lexa nods shortly. The silence falls between them again and Clarke starts to fiddle with her fingers. And it’s funny, Lexa thinks, how you can from telling someone everything, to having nothing to say to them at all in such a short time. Clarke’s mouth opens, like she’s going to say something, and then there’s a knock at the door.

Shit.

Lexa’s eyes widen and she turns toward the door. Jaw clenched, she opens it. Emily is on the other side, brown paper bag of thai in her hand and Lexa feels her stomach drop. She’d forgotten she was coming. She bites her lip. “This isn’t a good time,” Lexa says through her clenched teeth and she watches Emily’s expression fall into one of confusion.

“What, the world fall apart in the twenty minutes between now and when I called?” Emily asks and there’s a nervous edge to her voice and Lexa feels  _ bad _ . She shakes her head.

“There’s someone here. I didn’t know she was coming but I think it’s best if we’re alone tonight,” Lexa explains as best she can but somehow, it still doesn’t feel quite good enough. Emily’s eyebrows furrow. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Lexa says and then she shuts the door. She turns and leans against the door. Her head falls back and her eyes flutter shut.

“I’m sorry, I should have called first, I can just go get a hotel,” Clarke starts and Lexa shakes her head, not bothering to open her eyes. 

“Don’t apologize Clarke, it doesn’t suit you,” Lexa says softly, no harshness behind it. Just truth. “I’ll get you a pillow,” she continues, pushing her back off of the door.

When Lexa comes back from her bedroom, Clarke is sitting uncomfortably on the couch. She’s looking up at her with wide eyes and Lexa can’t deal with it. She puts the pillow on the couch. “Goodnight, Clarke,” Lexa says, with no intention of keeping this up any longer. She’s tired and this day has felt like it’s lasted years.

“Lexa, wait,” Clarke calls just before Lexa crosses the threshold of her bedroom.

“Don’t, Clarke,” Lexa says. “We’ll talk in the morning,” she says and then enters her room, closing the door quickly behind her.

God, and to think a few hours ago she thought her only problem would be finishing a manuscript in time.

-

When Lexa wakes up the next morning, it takes a bit for yesterday to catch up with her.

And then it hits her all at once. Clarke. Emily. Clarke  _ again _ . Ginger is snuggled up against Lexa’s side and slowly, Lexa pets her awake. She meows, yawns so Lexa can see all of her teeth, and then buries her head back into her paws. “Well you’re no help,” Lexa mutters down to her.

She lays there. And lays there. And lays there. Until her bladder decides that she can’t do it anymore. But she doesn’t want to face Clarke.

Fuck, she feels pathetic. This is her apartment. Her domain. Her rules. So she gets up, much to Ginger’s malcontent, and looks at herself in the mirror. Maybe just to make sure she isn’t seventeen again and this isn’t some sort of fucked up dream. But it’s not. She’s her twenty two year old self. She takes a deep breath and with as much confidence as she can pull from nowhere, she opens the door.

Clarke is sitting up on the couch, her knees hugged to her chest. She’s staring blankly ahead of her and she doesn’t look up. Lexa clears her throat and Clarke seems to snap from her trance. “Good morning, Clarke,” Lexa says and Clarke gives her a weak smile back.

“Good morning,” she replies quite weakly.

“Coffee?” Lexa asks and Clarke nods. She walks to the kitchen and at least this part is familiar. This part is  _ routine _ . But then Clarke comes to sit at the island, hands in her palms, quite like one of the first mornings Lexa had ever spent at the Griffin house, when she’d been hungover. Clarke sits in silence and Lexa isn’t eager to begin a conversation so they stay quiet while the coffee brews.

When it finishes, Lexa takes two mugs from the cabinet. She uses her ‘World’s Best Aunt’ mug, as she always does, and a floral mug that Gus had given her she gives to Clarke. She pours the coffee. “Just-”

“Two teaspoons of sugar. I remember,” Lexa says, fixing the coffees as if she hadn’t just remembered a small detail about a girl she hadn’t seen in five years.

“Yeah,” Clarke replies and she takes the coffee from Lexa with no further comment. She wraps her hands around the mug and inhales the mug and smiles. “Never gets old,” she says and Lexa just nods. She sips her own coffee and Clarke points at the mug.

“Anya?” She asks and that makes Lexa smile. There’s no way she can do anything  _ but  _ smile when she thinks about Anya.

“For my last birthday. Nobody has the heart to tell her I’m not really her aunt,” Lexa replies with a shrug. There’s smile on Clarke’s face but it’s far from happy. In fact, if Lexa can still read her the way that she used to, she’d say it was bitter.

“I’m glad things are good with you guys,” she says and that sounds sincere. They go quiet again and Clarke gestures toward the stack of papers that are still sitting on the counter, where she had left them last night. “What are those?” She asks.

“Manuscripts. I’m an editor,” Lexa explains. “I need to get through those before Monday,” she says and now there’s an even bigger knot in her stomach. Clarke smiles tightly.

“You do your work. Pretend I’m not here,” Clarke says, moving off the stool of the island. Lexa chuckles.

“I never could do that, could I?” Lexa mutters, turning away so she doesn’t have to see the look in Clarke’s eyes. She doesn’t want to know. She does, however, take the manuscripts into her bedroom and she locks the door.

Before she starts working, she calls Emily. “Hello?” Comes her familiar groggy voice and Lexa knows that she’s woken her up.

“It’s me,” Lexa replies.

“I know, I have caller ID, Grandma,” she manages to mock through her tired voice.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t accidentally pick up thinking it was someone else,” Lexa says and she tries to put as much of an apology into her voice as she can.

“Never,” Emily says and Lexa smiles.

“I’m sorry for last night,” Lexa says and she hears rustling in the background.

“It’s not a big deal,” she pauses. “Who was it?” She asks and Lexa knew she would ask - and she knew exactly how she would answer.

“Nobody. Just an old friend,” Lexa responds and it’s a not a lie - not really but she can’t get into the Clarke story, not now. Because that means talking about part of her past that she’s not proud of. Part of her past that still aches when she thinks about it. And she’s not ready. Not yet.

They don’t talk for long and soon, Lexa is settled into her desk, her glasses on, reading through manuscripts.

She just wishes the letters in the names in front of her would  _ stop  _ morphing into Clarke.

-

It’s 6pm and finally, she can’t take it anymore. She’s been stuck in this chair for….well for too long and her eyes are starting to go dry.

She can’t avoid spending time in her own apartment. Besides, she’s fairly certain that Ginger is getting quite sick of sitting just in this room.

When she leaves, Clarke is on the couch, much like she had been this morning, only this time her eyes are engaged with the television screen in front of her. Interesting, Lexa hadn’t even heard the tv go on. Lexa sits down on the side of the couch, a good distance away from Clarke. “What’s this?” Lexa asks and Clarke turns to her, a smirk on her face.

“Mob Wives. They’re replaying old episodes,” and Lexa has to resist the urge to comment on Clarke’s current fascination with the past. The silence is tense for a few moments until one of the women on the screen starts to speak, making them both laugh and then the tension is eased.

Within moments, it’s like they’re the way they were five years ago. The banter came easy and so did the slow movement toward her. Before she knew it, she was practically right next to her.

And God, it’s like nothing ever changed. It was as if they had never missed a beat, bouncing off of each other in a way that Lexa has never done with anyone. 

And then the moment is over. And Lexa sighs. Clarke looks over at her and there’s a question in her eyes. “The girl at the door yesterday. Was she…?” She trails off and Lexa shrugs.

“She’s something,” Lexa responds. Emily’s not her girlfriend - she can’t commit to that, but she’s not nothing either.

“I’m-” Clarke pauses. “I’m happy you found someone,” she finishes and it sounds far from sincere and Lexa knows that maybe she should correct her but she doesn’t. Maybe it’s better for both of them if Clarke thinks Emily is more than she is.

-

It occurs to Lexa that neither of them has asked the other what the past five years have been like.

They jumped right back in as if the years had never happened but still, there’s five years of information that Lexa is missing about Clarke. What she did, who she was with. She doesn’t know how her Mom is or if they got a new cat after Buttercup died. She doesn’t know anything. The girl sitting on her couch is practically a stranger. 

She brings wine home from work the next day and maybe she shouldn’t but the weekend was a whirlwind and maybe she deserves it. Clarke is staring at Ginger, who is under the table, glaring at her, when Lexa walks in. “Are you sure you didn’t buy the devil when you bought this cat?” Clarke asks warily and Lexa laugh, taking the bottle of wine out of the bag.

“Pet her underneath her chin,” and Lexa turns around for a moment to grab a bag of treats from on top of her refrigerator, “and give her some of these,” she says, shaking them in Clarke’s direction. “Key to her heart,” Lexa explains with a smile. Clarke’s wearing a baseball t-shirt that looks quite familiar to her, though she can’t quite place it. She smiles when Lexa hands over the bag of treats and she bends to the floor. She keeps shaking the bag to get Ginger out from underneath the table. When she’s close enough, she lets Ginger smell her hand, which luckily smells like the tuna flavored treats. She puts the treats on the ground and with the other hand, pets Ginger underneath her chin. She purrs. Clarke looks up at Lexa with a large, childlike grin on her face and Lexa feels her heart skip a beat. “Told you,” Lexa says and Ginger continues to let Clarke pet her. 

Lexa holds up the bottle of wine. “Would you like a glass?” Lexa asks and Clarke looks up at it. She shakes her head.

“No, I uh, actually stopped drinking,” Clarke replies and Lexa’s eyes go wide.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes and Clarke waves a hand.

“Don’t worry about it. No way you could have known,” Clarke says, laughing just slightly though it’s not quite in amusement. “You can have a glass though. I promise I won’t go wine thirsty and jump you for it,” she jokes and Lexa tilts her head, staring at her. Clarke’s always been something like a puzzle to her - she’d never had all the right pieces to solve. Even when she’d been in love with her, she had never grasped onto the thoughts in Clarke’s head. Now, it’s even worse. She’s a complete mystery.

And Lexa’s never yearned for a solution to anything more in her entire life.

“Why?” Lexa asks and Clarke looks up, brow furrowed.

“Why what?” She asks and Lexa takes the wine bottle by the neck and holds it up once again.

“Why did you stop drinking?” She asks because last she knew, Clarke was the kind of girl who spent more of her weekend inebriated than sober. Clarke shrugs.

“Sometimes, when you’re trying to deal with something, you deal the wrong way,” she replies, a half smile on her face. “I got into some trouble because I was drinking too much and it was either quit drinking or get cut off so,” Clarke lifts her wrist, showing off a large gold watch that likely cost more than what Lexa made in a year. “Guess which one I chose?” Clarke says with a laugh and Lexa does smile then. She opts not to have any wine, feeling like the very least she owes her is solidarity. Lexa moves to the other side of the island. She folds her hands and leans on her elbows. She laughs then and Clarke looks at her with a raised eyebrow. “What?” She asks and Lexa shakes her head.

“Ironic, isn’t it? Six years ago I sat outside your gates and you gave me a place to say. Now it seems we’re in reverse positions,” Lexa says and based on the way Clarke’s head falls, the irony has not been lost on her either. “I didn’t know you then and frankly, I don’t know you now,” Lexa comments and it’s not intended to be angry or spiteful - just truthful. “Who are you, Clarke Griffin?” Lexa asks and Clarke chuckles.

“I wouldn’t be here if I knew,” Clarke replies and it’s certainly not the answer that Lexa had been hoping for. Not that she knows anything about what she  _ had  _ been hoping for. Lexa straightens up. Instantly, it seems as though Clarke realized the implication of her words. She flinches. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she mumbles and Lexa shakes her head.

“I know how you meant it,” she replies and it’s colder than she intended. She pushes herself off of the counter and fakes a yawn. “I need to get some work done before I sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, Clarke,” she says and she starts to walk away. Before she’s far, Clarke’s voice stops her in her tracks.

“You’ve always been home base to me, you know that? Whenever something happens, I come back to you,” Clarke says and Lexa takes a deep breath. There’s a familiar ache in her chest and she wants to turn around. She wants to grab Clarke by the waist and pull her tightly against her and tell her that no place has felt more like home than she has.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she keeps walking.

Because she’s not seventeen anymore and that girl in there? That’s not the girl she was in love with. Not anymore.

(As she lays in bed, she realizes why that shirt was so familiar to her. It was hers.)

-

Clarke is cleaning when Lexa wakes up the next morning. She’s dancing by the sink, scrubbing dishes with a sponge. Lexa stands in the doorway of her bedroom, an amused smile on her face for moment before she clears her throat. Clarke’s head whips around and there’s an embarrassed flush in her cheeks. “Sorry, I’ve just been here for awhile and I haven’t been doing anything to help,” she offers an explanation and really, Lexa didn’t need one. She watches as Ginger crosses the living room, into the kitchen, to rub her head against Clarke’s leg. Clarke’s smile gets wider and Lexa has to bite down on her lip to prevent a smile from spreading across her own face.

There’s a pang in her chest when she realizes that this could have been it. This could have been their life. If things had never ended, Clarke wouldn’t be on the couch. Instead, she’d be in bed next to her. She’d always wake before Lexa anyway and she would exit the bedroom to see her  _ girlfriend  _ (hell, maybe even fiancee) washing the dishes. Not a stranger.

And everything in her  _ aches _ . Because for years, that’s what she wanted more than anything. For Clarke to simply be hers. Even now, maybe that’s all she wants. Maybe it’s all she’s ever wanted.

She’s shaken from her thoughts when Clarke gestures with her head toward the fridge. “I can make breakfast if you want? I’m nowhere near a culinary genius but I did have to cook for myself for a little while so I can make decent eggs,” Clarke offers and she should say no, really, she has to get to work. But there’s something about the smile that Clarke has on her face and the excited twinkle in her eye that has Lexa nodding her head.

Like she’d ever been able to deny Clarke anything.

It’s mostly quiet while she cooks, save for the humming that she’s doing as she flips the eggs in the pan. Lexa tries her best not to look at her because each time that she does, the urge to kiss her just gets stronger and stronger. She watches as Clarke opens cabinet door after cabinet door, attempting to find the plates. Lexa just laughs. Clarke turns to glare at her. “You could help,” she mumbles and Lexa shakes her head.

“It’s much more entertaining to watch you do it,” Lexa teases back and Clarke sticks her tongue out at her. The ache intensifies.

She never thought she wanted this - the domestic life. But with Clarke in front of her, making her breakfast, the cat on the counter watching them, she thinks that maybe this is all she wants.

Clarke puts the plate in front of her. “Viola,” she says with a smile. They’re a little watery but they’re not the worst thing she’s ever tasted. She gives Clarke her compliments before she goes into the bathroom to shower.

After she showers, she’s about to open the door when she overhears Clarke speaking. It doesn’t take more than a moment for Lexa to realize that she’s on the phone. “I know. Listen, you don’t have to keep fucking reminding me. I know,” she says into the receiver and Lexa is sure to keep quiet so she doesn’t alert Clarke to her eavesdropping. “Really? You’re going to lecture me about irresponsibility? Fuck off,” she raises her voice. “No, you don’t to worry about where I am. I’m fine,” she returns to her normal volume, though she sounds quite exasperated. “I’ll let you know my decision before the deadline. Bye,” and finally it goes quiet. Lexa bites down her lip.

She has no idea who that could be - or what it could be about. It does just further solidify the idea in her mind that she really doesn’t know who Clarke is anymore.

She slips out of the bathroom without so much as a word to her and changes quickly for work.

When she leaves, Clarke is in the bathroom. She doesn’t bother saying goodbye.

-

She has an appointment at noon.

And for once, she’s grateful for it.

Indra sits on the chair opposite her and Lexa’s knee is bouncing. Indra is staring directly at it. She’s been sitting in silence for a few minutes and she knows Indra won’t be the one to break the silence. She never did. Even her first session with her, when she sat silent for an entire hour before standing up without so much as a goodbye. She did however, make another appointment and she only sat silent for forty five minutes then.

“Clarke is staying with me,” Lexa finally says and Indra nods.

“As in Clarke Griffin, the girl who took you in?” She clarifies and Lexa nods.

“She knocked on my door and told me she needed to stay. I think after all that she had done for me, the least that I owed her was a spot on my couch,” Lexa explains.

And Indra isn’t the sort to offer advice, which is good because advice isn’t what Lexa needs. She just needs to talk. That’s what Indra’s here for.

And she goes on, for quite some time, about Clarke and everything she’s made her feel.

“Do you think seeing Clarke again has brought up negative feelings regarding your parents?” Indra asks and Lexa has to take a deep breath.

“Everything brings up negative feelings regarding my parents. Next question,” Lexa says because she’s not eager to talk about them - she never is. They’re in her past and she wishes for them to stay there.

But still, there isn’t a day goes by that she doesn’t think about them. That she doesn’t wonder where they are. If they have ever worked past their homophobia. If they ever would have been able to come to accept her. And she hopes, deep down, that they miss her. That when they sit with each other and watch Wheel of Fortune, they feel incomplete because there’s a part of their heart missing that they can’t fill.

She hopes that on her birthday, her Mother weeps. She hopes that on Father’s Day, her Dad is reminded that he no longer has the right to be called a Father because he  _ left _ . She hopes that they never feel whole again.

Because she never will.

She is no longer anybody’s daughter.

She has grown an identity outside of them - but that doesn’t mean it will ever stop hurting. That she won’t always think, what’s wrong with me? Because parents are the people who are supposed to want you no matter what. If they didn’t want her, who would?

And maybe she has bigger issues than Clarke, but she’s working through them, and right now Clarke is her main concern. Primarily because she’s still on her couch and whenever she looks at her, she still wants to kiss her.

She leaves Indra’s office not feeling much better than when she’d arrived but the weight on her shoulders feels lighter, if not by much.

She’s only back at her desk for a few moments before Emily is sliding into her cubicle. “Hey, stranger,” she says with a smile and Lexa has to fight back a grimace.

“Hello, Emily,” Lexa replies and Emily leans against her desk.

“Haven’t heard from you in a few days so I wanted to check in. How’s your house guest?” She asks and Lexa flinches.

“Look, there’s something I should tell you,” Lexa starts and Emily’s face falls, just barely, but Lexa’s known her long enough now to notice.

“Uh oh,” she says jokingly but Lexa doesn’t smile.

“She’s the girl from the picture,” Lexa says, not bothering to beat around the bush. That would just make things worse. “She was a girl I was in love with and I owe her my life,” Lexa says simply. Emily’s brow furrows.

“Do you still…?” Emily trails off and the question goes unasked but Lexa knows what she’s asking. She closes her eyes.

“I don’t know,” she mutters because she doesn’t. Maybe she does. Or maybe she just loves the memory. But she does know that she owes it to herself, and to Emily, to figure it out. Emily’s smile is small and just a little bit bitter but as she pushes off the desk, she leans down to kiss Lexa on the cheek.

“Let me know when you figure it out okay?” She says and then she leaves her desk without so much as a second glance.

Lexa wonders when she got so used to hurting people.

-

Clarke’s watching Say Yes to the Dress when Lexa gets home. Lexa wears the weight of the day in her eyes, something Clarke is quick to notice. “Long day?” She asks and Lexa just nods. She drops her bag at the front door and sits on the couch next to Clarke.

“You have no idea,” Lexa mutters and Clarke sighs.

“I’ve had a few bad days in my lifetime. Shoot,” Clarke says, turning her body around so she is facing Lexa. Deciding that honesty maybe is the best policy, she says.

“I broke up with Emily,” and her voice is flat and there’s not much of an ache in her chest, not the way there is when she’s with Clarke (and really, she wishes she could stop comparing them).

“I’m sorry,” Clarke offers and Lexa snorts. If only she knew. Lexa rolls her head over so it’s still leaning against the back of the couch but she’s looking at Clarke.

“Why are you here?” She asks exasperatedly and Clarke bites her lip.

“I told you. You’re home base. Started here and figured this is where I should end,” Clarke replies and Lexa furrows her brow.

“End what?” Lexa asks and her heart rate is accelerating.

“This chapter of my life. The you chapter,” She pauses and she looks at Lexa, her blue eyes starting to fill with tears. “The part I’ve been stuck on since we broke up,” she continues. “I haven’t been able to turn the page on you in five years and it fucked everything up,” Clarke continues and Lexa watches as a single tear falls down her cheek. She resists the urge to reach out and wipe it away.

“Why now?” Lexa asks and while she’s afraid of the answer, it’s one she needs. Clarke laughs bitterly.

“There’s a proposal on the table. A spot in prestigious medical program, in England,” Clarke explains and Lexa’s chest tightens. No.  _ No _ . Clarke sits up and she fixes Lexa with a pointed look. “I got the offer from Oxford two months ago. And you know what I said?” She asks and she doesn’t wait for an answer before she continues. “I said I’d think about it. Who has to think about Oxford? Nobody!” She laughs again. “But I had to. Because I couldn’t say yes without letting go of you,” Clarke continues. There are more tears pouring from her eyes now and she wipes them away quickly. “Because if I leave, I need to be done with you. I need to stop missing you, every single day. I need to stop waking up wanting you,” Clarke’s voice is raised now and the tears are coming too quickly for her to wipe away. “So I came here to let you go,” Clarke says but there’s something in her voice that tells Lexa she’s not finished yet. Lexa waits and finally, Clarke keeps going. “Or I came for you to tell me to stay,” Clarke finishes with a shrug and everything in Lexa wants to explode.

Her senses are in overdrive and she doesn’t know what to think or what to say or even how to feel.

So she does the only thing that she can think of to do. She reaches over and grabs Clarke’s face, putting it between both of her hands. Lexa takes a deep breath. And then she leans in.

The kiss is….everything. It’s passion and it’s five years of pent up need. It’s desire and every weakness she’s ever felt and more than anything, it’s  _ love _ . Lexa pulls back and she looks Clarke in the eye. She wants to tell her to stay, more than anything, but instead she says, “I need you,” and she waits for a moment, which is all Clarke needs to reconnect their lips.

Lexa’s hands move from Clarke’s face to around her neck and Clarke doesn’t waste time before she’s climbing into Lexa’s lap. Lexa moves her hands down to Clarke’s hips, gripping the skin underneath her shirt tightly. Clarke’s lips move to her neck and Lexa tosses her head back, enjoying the familiar feel of Clarke’s lips against her neck. Lexa’s fingers move up Clarke’s sides, feeling the skin underneath her fingertips and it’s like fire. They’ve always been explosive together.

Clarke’s mouth is back on hers and Lexa grips her hips tightly as the roll down against her. Clarke pulls back. “I don’t want to fuck you on your couch,” Clarke whispers, out of breath, and Lexa laughs into her shoulder. With a thrust of her hips, she guides Clarke up off the couch. Clarke grabs her hand and Lexa doesn’t mind letting her take the lead.

Once they’re in the bedroom, Clarke wastes no time in pushing Lexa over to the bed, so far that her knees hit the mattress and she falls on top of it. Clarke reassumes her position on top of her, leaning down for a moment to kiss along her collarbone. She sits up then, arms crossed with her hands at the hem of her t-shirt. She pulls it up and over her head. She’s wearing a lace bra that makes her boobs look incredible, and frankly, Lexa wants the pleasure of taking that off. She uses her arms to sit herself up, moving backwards so she can support both of their weight. Clarke’s bare stomach is pressed up against her and Lexa reaches around, unhooking the bra as quickly as she can. It takes a few tries, her nervous fingers still shaking, but she gets it off quickly.

Lexa’s never been quite sure what her favorite part of Clarke was, but as she plants kisses on her bare breast, looking up at her through her eyelashes, she thinks that maybe her boobs are the best part of her.

Clarke’s head is thrown back and Lexa takes one of her nipples into her mouth. Above her, Clarke moans and Lexa’s grip on Clarke’s back tightens and she digs her fingernails into Clarke’s skin, something that just makes her moan even louder. Lexa quickly moves her mouth to the opposite breast, her hands sliding down into the back of Clarke’s pants. She grips her ass tightly, which just causes Clarke to thrust her hips against Lexa’s.

Lexa knows how wet she is and just how sensitive her clit is bound to be. It won’t take much to get her off. Hell, if Clarke keeps rutting against her like that, she might come before her pants even come off. When Lexa’s mouth is finally free, Clarke leans down and kisses her before pulling away just slightly. “Down,” she whispers and before she does as she’s told, she pulls her own shirt off. She leans back on the bed and Clarke stays in her position at the edge of the bed. She leans over Lexa, kissing her collarbone, then the middle of her chest, the tops of each of her breasts, and then all the way down her stomach. Finally, Clarke rests on her knees. Her fingers to up to the buttons on Lexa’s pants and very quickly, she pulls them all the way down. Clarke kisses each of Lexa’s hip bones, both of which are protruding and she can’t help but thrust her hips upward. Clarke clicks her tongue. “Not yet,” she says and she kisses along the top line of her underwear. A hand is soon between her legs, gently stroking the underside of her underwear, which is completely soaked through. Lexa bites down on her lip, doing her best not to rut her hips up again, lest Clarke play the game Lexa knows she so loves to play: orgasm denial.

Clarke’s hands spread Lexa’s legs apart and Clarke lowers her mouth to her inner thighs. She takes the skin there into her mouth, sucking hard, and Lexa knows she’ll leave marks. She doesn’t care. She wants marks. Let everybody know that she belongs to Clarke Griffin.

Clarke’s nose nudges against Lexa’s clit through her underwear and Lexa lets out a small moan. “You’re so sensitive….” she trails off and then she looks up at Lexa from between her legs. “Do you want me, Lexa?” She asks and Lexa nods. “Say it,” she nearly commands.

“I want you, Clarke,” Lexa says and finally, Clarke removes Lexa’s underwear. She doesn’t go right where she wants her, oh no, she takes her time. She kisses the top of her pubic mound, she kisses her outer lips, before finally she uses two fingers to spread them and licks up to her clit. There she places a gentle kiss, just enough to have Lexa’s hips once again moving. She repeats that motion a few times until finally, her mouth settles on her clit.

Lexa’s hands bury in Clarke’s hair as Clarke continues to work on her clit. Lexa’s hips grind down against Clarke’s face and in an embarrassingly short amount of time, Lexa comes with a cry of, “Clarke, fuck.”

She doesn’t stop once Lexa has come. Of course not. It’s only once Lexa feels her clit become so sensitive, even Clarke’s lips feel like too much, that she pulls tightly on her hair so she knows. Clarke comes up, not bothering to wipe her mouth, and she kisses Lexa with everything she has. Lexa takes the opportunity to flip them so Clarke is lying on the bed now. Lexa’s never been a fan of the teasing game, not like Clarke is, so she doesn’t waste much time in getting Clarke’s pants and underewear off.

She does know though, that it takes Clarke more time to come than it takes her and Lexa is, truly, all about the ride. Lexa’s mouth works Clarke’s clit and Clarke is writhing above her, moaning so loud that Lexa has doubt the neighbors can hear them. “Fingers,” Clarke says from above her and Lexa is more than happy to oblige. She starts with one, moving it slowly in and out of her, hooking her finger upward just slightly. After a moment, Clarke asks for another. Lexa pumps two fingers in and out of Clarke, keeping her mouth on her clit, until Lexa hooks her fingers exactly right and Clarke comes. Lexa feels her tightening around her fingers and she continues to work them through Clarke’s orgasm.

Lexa takes her fingers in her mouth and licks Clarke off of her. She knows they could both go again, and again, but it’s late and all she wants to do now is curl up against Clarke.

They’re under the covers soon and Lexa is resting her head against Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke is dragging her finger on Lexa’s shoulder, drawing invisible patterns on her skin. Lexa’s eyes are beginning to flutter closed when from the door, there’s the sound of a meow. “We forgot to shut the door,” Lexa whispers against Clarke’s chest. She feels the laughter vibrate through her chest and she feels happiness bubble in her stomach. There’s no emptiness in her, not this time, not the way there had been with all those other girls. This feels like….it. Like it’s what she’d been searching for this whole time. She feels the closest thing to complete she’s ever felt as she’s tucked underneath Clarke’s arm, listening to heartbeat with her head rising with the movement of her chest.

As they fall asleep together, Lexa only thinks one thing. She doesn’t say it, she doesn’t dare, but it’s the only thing that crosses her mind.

_ I love you. _

-

She wakes up the next morning, hair against her back, and it takes her a moment to remember that blonde hairs are Clarke’s. Not Emily’s. Not anybody else’s. Clarke’s.

It’s the first time she’s woken up with a smile in quite a long time and when she turns herself around, she feels it grow. Clarke is still sleeping, her face finally looking peaceful and Lexa only wishes that it could stay like that - permanently. However, Ginger is moving at her feet and judging by the rays of sun flooding through the window, it’s past time to wake up. She lifts her and drags a thumb across Clarke’s cheekbone. “Clarke,” she whispers and she starts to move around, her nose wrinkling. “It’s time to wake up,” she continues and Clarke grabs the blanket in her fist and pulls it up to her chest. She’s always been a heavy sleeper.

“No,” she petulantly replies. Smiling, Lexa leans over. She kisses Clarke once, shortly, and pulls back. Clarke’s brow furrows. “Come back,” she says and Lexa moves to slip out of bed.

“No. If you want more of that, you have to get out of bed,” Lexa teases and she puts the shirt she had discarded from Clarke last night. It was the same baseball tee she had been wearing the day previous and well, she figures it out to be returned to its rightful owner.

It smells like her. She inhales and then she’s dizzy at the sensation of the smell filling her nose. She’d never forgotten how Clarke had smelled. The memory had faded, as time is prone to doing to things she holds dear, but every so often, she’d catch a whiff of the familiar jasmine scent and she’d be back by the poolside, dangerously close to Clarke.

And now, for once, it’s not in her imagination. This is real. Clarke is in her bed and maybe that’s all she knows for now - but it’s something. Clarke is behind her and she pulls at the edge of her shirt before she wraps her arms around Lexa’s waist. She kisses the base of Lexa’s neck. “I think this is mine,” Clarke whispers in her ear and she laughs before she turns around.

“If memory serves me correctly, it was mine first,” she whispers back before kissing Clarke on the mouth. The kiss is only ruined, if that’s the right term, when Clarke smiles against her mouth.

“It was the only thing you left. I had it as a pillow case until it stopped smelling like you,” Clarke says and there’s a pang in Lexa’s chest that she refuses to acknowledge. Maybe they’ll deal with what happened between them later. Maybe they won’t. All she knows is that right now? Clarke is in her arms and it’s the only thing she wants to focus on.

They barely detach from each other as Lexa makes coffee. Clarke has her pushed against the edge of the counter before she even has a chance to turn the machine on. Clarke’s hands are on the counter, pinning her there. She rests her forehead against Lexa’s. Lexa’s eyes flutter closed. “I missed you - I missed this,” she says and she opens one eye to see Clarke smiling.

“I dreamed about you, about this, for so long. I never thought I’d ever do this,” and she pulls herself closer to Lexa, “again,” she finishes and Lexa knows she hasn’t stopped smiling since she woke up but she can’t help it.

This could be it.

Maybe the reason none of those other girls felt right was because they weren’t Clarke.

She’s always had a difficult time believing in soulmates but the feeling of completeness she gets when Clarke is with her is unparalleled and maybe she ought to rethink things.

-

They spend the entire day with their pants off, intertwined with other.

They do their best to catch up on the years that they missed but it’s hard to pack five years of information into one afternoon of conversation. They’re lying together on the couch, Lexa’s head against Clarke’s shoulder, and Lexa finally has the nerve to bring it up. “When do you have to decide?” Lexa asks and the hand that’s stroking Lexa’s hair pauses.

“The end of the week,” Clarke mutters and Lexa takes a deep breath.

“That’s quite soon,” Lexa comments and Clarke sighs.

“If I decide to go, I leave right from Portland International,” Clarke says and Lexa swallows.

She wants Clarke to stay, perhaps more than she’s ever wanted anything, but she can’t keep Clarke from Oxford. It’d be selfish. “I hate how this always seems to happen,” Lexa murmurs.

“What?” Clarke says back, her hand beginning to move again to stroke Lexa’s hair.

“We get close,” and she punctuates this by reaching across Clarke’s lap, grabbing her hand, and lifting their intertwined fingers up. “And there’s something lurking in the corner waiting to take one of us away,” Lexa finishes. She tries to swallow the lump in her throat before it becomes noticeable. Clarke kisses the top of Lexa’s head.

“We’re victims to timing,” Clarke says with a half smile.

“I want you while I can have you,” Lexa says and Clarke looks down at her.

“There doesn’t have to be a limit on this,” Clarke begins. “I want you. I don’t care about anything else. I don’t care about Oxford. There’s medical programs here. There’s no you in England,” Clarke explains. Lexa chuckles though it’s bitter.

“You don’t mean that,” Lexa murmurs and Clarke sits up straight, nearly knocking Lexa’s head off her shoulder.

“I do. Lexa, I’ve spent the past five years missing you. Waking up and reaching for you,” she grips Lexa’s hand tighter. “I regretted walking away from you the moment that I did it. I couldn’t take it back then but I can do it now,” she says and there’s passion in her voice that she hasn’t heard before and as Lexa looks back at her, she realizes just how much she wants this.

Just how much she wants her.

That even though it’s been five years, not a thing about the way she feels about her has changed. She still loves her with her entire heart.

And Clarke feels the same way.

“Stay,” Lexa says and Clarke’s face lights up.

“Yeah?” Clarke says and Lexa smiles. She can’t let Clarke walk away from her again. Not when she’s just gotten her back.

“Yeah,” Lexa says simply in return. Clarke’s grin is nearly face splitting and she pulls Lexa to her, kissing her hard.

“I won’t let you go again,” Clarke mutters against her mouth. Lexa just smiles.

-

She wakes the next morning to the buzzing of her phone. Groggily, she answers. “Hello?”

“What’s up, buttercup?” It’s Daniel. She sits up, glancing down at Clarke’s sleeping form next to her, and she does her best to climb out of bed without disturbing her. When she’s made it out the door, she sits on the couch.

“Why are you calling so early?” Lexa asks because her clock says it’s barely past 8am.

“We haven’t heard from you in a little while. We just wanted to check in,” and there’s question in Daniel’s voice but she knows. Even through the phone, he’s quite easy to read.

“She’s still here, Daniel,” she says with a sigh.

“I wasn’t asking,” he says with amusement in his voice. “How are you?” He asks and his voice is softer now, no sign of a joke.

“Better,” she replies because she is but she doesn’t know how to explain whatever has happened between she and Clarke to her uncle. He must have sensed that because he changes the subject.

“Are you free today?” He asks and Lexa looks back at the bedroom, where the door is still open.

“Yes. Why?” She asks, only a little suspicious.

“Can you watch Anya? Gus and I have a meeting with the adoption agency today,”  he explains, giddiness in his tone. Lexa’s smile widens.

“Are you two really trying then?” She asks. She knew that Gus and Daniel were looking into adopting another child, but she had heard nothing of the subject in months. She thought it had been dropped but maybe they were just keeping secrets.

“It’s tentative right now - we’re not counting on anything, but we’re ready,” he says.

“That’s so wonderful. Of course I’ll watch Anya,” she says and she would have done it without explanation. She’s never said no to watching Anya before and she doubts that she ever will.

“Excellent. We’ll be there in about an hour. She’s all packed so you should be set,” he explains and Lexa smiles.

“I look forward to it,” Lexa says and then she hangs up.

She moves back into the bedroom and she gently shakes Clarke awake. “Babe, wake up,” Lexa says, the pet name slipping from her mouth without intention. Instantly, Clarke’s eyes are wide.

“Babe?” She mimics with a smile. Lexa flushes.

“Slipped,” she says and Clarke bites her lip. She sits up, giving Lexa a kiss.

“I like it,” she murmurs.

“Good. Now you do have to get up, Gus and Daniel are bringing Anya over. We’re watching her for the day,” Lexa explains and Clarke’s eyes go wide.

“Shit, I have to shower,” she scrambles up and Lexa watches her with a smile on her face.

“Don’t bother - you’ll wish you didn’t when she gets here,” Lexa yells with a smile. Clarke pokes her head into the doorway and she points to her hair, which does look quite messy.

“I haven’t showered in two days. This mess is killing me,” she says and Lexa walks up to her. She kisses the tip of her nose.

“You look beautiful,” Lexa says and Clarke’s nose wrinkles.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a giant cheese ball?” Clarke says and Lexa’s eyes are soft.

“Only for you,” and she means it. Clarke’s it. She’s always been it.

-

Anya is, as Lexa expects, a ball of energy.

The moment she enters the apartment, she’s on Lexa’s leg. “Aunt Lexa, aunt Lexa! Guess what?” She says immediately and Lexa pats her back, pretending that she knocked her back.

“What, bean?” Lexa replies and Anya is grinning up at her, her missing front tooth, glaringly obvious.

“The tooth fairy gave me  _ five  _ dollars in fairy money for my tooth!” She explains excitedly. Lexa raises an eyebrow.

“Fairy money?” She asks, glancing up at Gus and Daniel, who are looking at her with a twinkles in their eye.

“It’s got glitter  _ all  _ over it! Daddy told me I can buy my own shopkin!” She says with a self-satisfied smile. Lexa smirks up at Gus, trying to imagine him using glitter glue on a five dollar bill. Anya finally lets go of Lexa’s legs, having noticed Clarke standing quite timidly behind Lexa. She marches right up to her and fixes her with an appraising stare that a six year old really should not be capable of. “Who are you?” She asks quite bluntly. Clarke smiles and she bends down so she’s at Anya’s eye level.

“I’m Clarke,” she puts her hand out. “It’s very nice to meet you Anya,” and Anya looks down at Clarke’s hand for a long minute before finally, she reaches out and shakes her hand.

Lexa is smiling and Gus clears his throat. “We’re going to the adoption agency and then we’re going to go out for dinner. Have fun,” he says, glancing at Clarke warily. Lexa says goodbye to them and she closes the door. Anya is still sitting next to Clarke, animatedly discussing something and Clarke looks completely enraptured. Lexa’s stomach flips. Clarke glances up and gives Lexa a smile. Another flip of her stomach.

Suddenly, Anya isn’t her niece. She’s  _ theirs  _ and she’s got blond hair instead of brown and they aren’t babysitting for an afternoon.

Yeah. Clarke really is it.

-

Lexa is sitting in an armchair across from Clarke and Anya. Anya is sitting on Clarke’s lap, her hand over her heart. “I don’t hear your heart, patient!” Anya says and Clarke throws her head back.

“Oh no? Did I forget to tell you I’m a vampire? I don’t have a heartbeat,” she says and then leans in toward Anya’s neck, as if she’s going to bite her. Anya giggles and Lexa’s heart skips a beat.

“It’s your turn to be the doctor,” Anya says to Clarke and she feigns a serious face as she takes Anya’s arm and inspects it.

“I think it has to come off, Miss,” and Anya’s eyes widen. Clarke’s brow furrows. “Unless…” she trails off and then her fingers are digging slightly into her sides, tickling her. Anya is nearly falling off the couch now. Clarke stops and Anya rests her head against Clarke’s shoulder.

“Clarke?” Anya asks, after a yawn.

“Yeah?” She replies.

“Are you and Aunt Lexa like my daddies?” She asks and Clarke glances over at Lexa, who is blushing.

“Sort of,” she explains and Lexa bites down on her lip to keep herself from laughing.

“Do you love her? Cause my Dad says he loves my Daddy all the time,” Anya continues and Clarke looks at Lexa when she responds.

“I do,” she says and Anya smiles, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Good. I love her too,” she says simply, sweetly and then she starts to doze off, still clinging to Clarke.

It doesn’t take long before Clarke too falls asleep. Lexa covers the two of them with blankets and she can’t resist, she takes a picture.

Soon, Gus and Daniel are back and Lexa shh’s them as they walk in. Daniel looks at Anya cuddled up in Clarke’s chest with a smile, while Gus’s eyes narrow. “I’m going to use the facilities,” Daniel says, looking back and forth between Gus and Lexa, noticing the glare in his husband’s eyes. Lexa’s jaw clenches.

“What?” She asks because the look on his face is far from friendly and it’s the one he always gives her when he has an opinion he knows she won’t like.

“I don’t like this,” he say simply, moving his finger between Clarke’s sleeping form on the couch and Lexa. Lexa rolls her eyes.

“There is nothing about Clarke and I that’s your business,” Lexa says, tilting her chin upwards. Gus shakes his head.

“I wish I was home when she came to the house. I never would have let Daniel give her your address. That girl has never been anything but trouble for you. She shattered you five years ago, are you certain that there’s anything that makes this time different?” Gus says and Lexa wants to defend her but the words get stuck in her throat. Because she has no guarantee that this is different. But she has to trust that Clarke means what she’s saying - she knows she does.

“I choose to trust her Gus and I will make that choice every single time,” she fires back. Gus sighs. He knows it’s useless to argue with Lexa - she always wins.

“Be careful. You know she’s prone to running,” he says simply and then Daniel exits the bathroom, the door slamming loud enough to wake up both Anya and Clarke. Anya yawns but the tiredness fades from her face the moment she sees her Dad’s. Anya rushes over to Gus, who picks her up and kisses her cheek.

“Did you behave for Aunt Lexa?” He asks her, conveniently forgetting to mention Clarke. Anya nods.

“Duh. And me and Clarke played doctor. Did you know she’s a vampire, Daddy?” Anya says with excitement. Gus huffs out a small laugh.

“Is she? How interesting,” Gus says. He turns her toward Lexa. “Say goodbye to Aunt Lexa,” he says and Anya reaches out to wrap her arms around Lexa’s neck. Lexa gives her a kiss on the cheek.

“Bye, bean,” she says and Anya smiles. She waves at Clarke as Gus carries her away. Daniel gives Lexa a sympathetic look before he leaves the apartment. Lexa stares at the door for a few moments before Clarke’s yawn breaks her stupor. She walks toward Lexa and wraps her arms around her waist. She kisses Lexa’s shoulder.

“I’m beat,” she says, yawning. Lexa stares at the door for a moment longer. She turns to Clarke.

“Go to bed. I’m going to stay up a little longer. I have work I need to do,” she mumbles. Clarke gives her a kiss on a cheek before retiring to the bedroom.

She wishes that they didn’t but Gus’s words echo through her head.

She knows he’s only looking out for her - that he only has her best interests at heart. But Clarke  _ is  _ her best interest.

Right?

And the more that she thinks about it, the certain of it that she becomes. She knows that this time, she was ready for Clarke. She had a space in her life that she was ready for Clarke to fill.

However, Lexa wonders if Clarke’s forcing her into a space that she doesn’t. That maybe, there’s no place in her life right now for her. That Lexa is occupying a space that’s not meant for her.

Because Clarke came her to find something.

A reason not to go. And Lexa can’t be that for her. She won’t be the reason Clarke turns down Oxford. Maybe she was in a space where she was ready for Clarke but Clarke wasn’t ready for her.

She was right - they were victims to timing.

-

Lexa sleeps on the couch that night. She’s awoken by Clarke, who has a smile on her face. Lexa’s immediate reaction is to smile but it fades and the lump in her stomach grows.

She doesn’t know how to approach this. She doesn’t know what to say. It’d been Clarke who ended things last time and she’s never been good at this. Clarke moves to make coffee but Lexa grabs her arm.

“I need to talk to you, Clarke,” she mutters and Clarke turns to her, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

“What?” She asks and Lexa takes a deep breath. She has to do this. It’s not right of her to be selfish. She can’t always lead her life and make her decisions with her heart. Sometimes, her head has to be her source. Even if it hurts.

“Why did you come here?” Lexa asks and Clarke looks confused.

“I already told you,” and Lexa shakes her head.

“Did you come for  _ me  _ or did you come looking for a reason not to go to England?” Lexa rephrases her question because she’s not going to beat around the bush. Not with this. She can’t afford it.

“Lexa, I came for you, of course I did,” Clarke says and Lexa shakes her head.

“I can’t. I can’t be the reason you let go of Oxford. It’s a brilliant opportunity,” Lexa says and Clarke shakes her head.

“Why are you doing this?” Clarke’s voice breaks and she reaches out and Lexa flinches away.

“I have to,” Lexa says through clenched teeth. Clarke stands tall and she fixes Lexa with a steely look. Her chin is tilted up and she’s daring Lexa to defy her.

“Do you love me?” Clarke asks and Lexa’s jaw clenches.

“Don’t ask me that, Clarke,” Lexa begs and Clarke just takes a step toward her.

“Do. You. Love. Me?” She repeated, enunciating every word. Lexa shakes her head.

She doesn’t want to - every nerve ending in her is telling her not to do it, but she has to. Clarke has to go.

“No,” Lexa says and Clarke moves away like she’s been shocked.

“Oh,” Clarke replies and she shakes her head. Her eyes are filled with tears and Lexa can’t look at her otherwise she’s going to reach out and tell her that she’s not telling the truth. Because she does. She loves her. She’s loved her since she was seventeen and that was never going to change. But she can’t. Their timing was just. Wrong. Like always. “I’ll pack my stuff,” Clarke mumbles and Lexa nods.

“I think that would be best,” Lexa replies, eyes on the ground. She walks into her bedroom and she slams the door behind her.

She collapses onto the bed, bringing a pillow to her chest. She bites it so there’s no sound when she sobs.

She hears the door slam and the tears are coming down her cheeks faster then they’ve come in years.

She cries herself to sleep for the first time since she was seventeen.

-

She takes three sick days in a row.

She doesn’t know if Clarke left or if she ever made it to England.

She hopes she does.

She hopes her heartbreak was worth it.

-

It takes a week before she answers Gus’s phone call. “Hello?” She mutters into the receiver.

“I was twenty minutes away from coming up there and breaking your door down. Answer your fucking phone,” Gus nearly yells into the phone.

“I don’t need a lecture,” she says flatly.

“I don’t want to yell at you. I just want to know how you are,” he replies, his voice going soft.

“I’m fine,” she replies robotically.

“Bullshit. If you were fine, you would have answered a week ago,” he shoots back at her. Lexa sighs. Her heart is still aching and she doesn’t think it will ever stop.

“I let her go, Gus,” she mutters and Gus sighs into the phone.

“Was it because of me?” He asks and Lexa scoffs.

“As if you have that much power over me,” Lexa comments, laughing just slightly to herself. “She was going to turn down Oxford for me. I couldn’t do that to her,” Lexa finishes softly.

“Oh, Lexa,” Gus says softly.

“It’s fine. I got over her once, I can do it again,” Lexa says shakily and she doesn’t sound confident, not in the least, but the more that she says it, she hopes the more it will hold true.

“Come home this weekend,” Gus suggests and Lexa doesn’t find a fault with the suggestion.

-

Anya cheers her up, only slightly, but she spends most of the weekend wrapped in a blanket, staring at the fire.

She misses Clarke. She’d only had her back for a few days but it was enough to remind her why she hadn’t wanted to let her go. Why she’d been so important to her.

Because she’s the only one it was ever easy with. The only person she didn’t have to  _ try  _ to be someone with because just herself was fine. And she doesn’t think that she’ll ever find anybody else like that.

Lexa has to wonder if it’s possible for Clarke to be her soulmate, but for Lexa to not be hers.

Because she doesn’t know if she’ll ever see her again now that she’s forced her away. She pushed and she pushed and maybe this was their last chance. Maybe it was the last opportunity to get it right.

And they fucked it up again.

She cries more than she does anything else and she wishes she were stronger but this  _ hurts  _ more than the first time and maybe it’s because she cared more than the first time. She knew this time that it was love she felt, right away, She knew that if forever with Clarke was an option, she would take it. But now tomorrow isn’t even an option.

It’s hard to shake the thought that Clarke isn’t her destiny because even when they were apart, Lexa had always hoped. She’d always thought that maybe, they’d find each other again and they would be  _ fine _ .

But that’s not going to happen. Maybe she’s just better off alone. Loving never seems to get her anything good. It just gets her hurt.

-

It’s two months after Clarke left and Lexa’s chest starts to feel less heavy.

It hurts when she thinks her name but tears no longer pool at the bottom of her eyes when she thinks about her and that, if anything, is progress.

Daniel calls her on a Tuesday night. “They found a birth Mom,” he whispers through his tears and it’s the first time in months that Lexa can recall feeling truly happy. She’s going to have another niece or nephew. In a few months time, she’s going to be an Aunt again.

So she spends more money than she ought to on as many gender neutral onesies as she can. She splurges and buys a mobile, complete with stars, moons, and all of the things that remind her of home.

Gus cries when he opens it and he tells her that he loves her more times that day than he has in the past six years.

The birth Mother goes into labor on a Sunday night in the middle of winter. Daniel and Gus drop Anya off in pajamas with tears in their eyes. She hugs them both and wishes them the best of luck and that she can’t wait to see the new baby.

Anya doesn’t sleep for a long time and neither does Lexa. She waits by the phone all night. She does, eventually, doze off but she’s woken by the buzzing of her phone. She picks up and she hears Daniel’s happy sobs through it. “It’s a boy. He’s so beautiful, Lexa,” and he keeps crying. Lexa raises a hand to her mouth and there are tears of happiness flowing from her eyes too. Before he hangs up, she wakes up Anya so he can tell her that she has a little a brother. Lexa’s never seen her more excited.

The day she meets her nephew is the first day that she goes without thinking of Clarke in nearly six months.

After the birth mother officially signs her rights away, something both Gus and Daniel had been terrified that she wouldn’t do,they are finally able to bring him home. Lexa’s nearly bouncing in her seat on the couch, she’s so eager to meet her nephew. They walk in and Daniel has him in his arms. He’s just a small lump in his arms and both Daniel and Gus have the biggest grins on their faces.

Daniel hands him over to Lexa, who is quite afraid that she’s going to break him, but Daniel assures her that he’s stronger than she thinks. “Especially with a name like he’s got,” Daniel says, throwing a smile at Gus. Gus wraps his arm around Daniel’s shoulder and pulls him in close. Lexa raises an eyebrow in question. “His name is Alexander,” Daniel says and Lexa’s eyes go wide.

“Not - no. Me?” She can barely get the words out because she’s struck dumb. Gus nods.

“After you. We thought, what would be a good, strong name? Who is the strongest person we know?” Gus says and Daniel smiles. “You,” he finishes.

As Lexa looks down at Alexander, she watches a tear fall off her cheek and fall onto his face. She leans down and kisses him on the forehead. “You’re beautiful, Alexander,” she whispers to him and across from her, Daniel wipes tears from his eyes.

“You can turn us down, but Gus and I can’t imagine anyone better for the position,” Daniel starts. “Would you consider being his godmother?” He finishes and Lexa doesn’t take her eyes off of the yawning baby in front of her while she nods.

“Absolutely,” she says, still whispering. He’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

The only thing that would make it better was Clarke.

-

Lexa brings more gifts to Gus’s house and he’s in dire need of a nap, so Lexa assumes Alexander duty.

He’s just eaten so she has him on her shoulder, her hand gently hitting his back. When he burps, she smiles. “So much gas for such a tiny boy,” she nearly coos at him and Daniel, coming out from his home office, laughs.

“You’re a natural,” he comments and Lexa shrugs.

“I never thought I would be good with babies. It’s easy with him,” she says and Daniel sits down on the couch. Lexa follows suit, lowering Alexander so he’s resting on her thighs. She’s still got his head with one of her hands and she’s smiling down at him, sadly.

“What’s got you down?” Daniel asks and Lexa shakes her head.

“It’s stupid,” Lexa says. Daniel snorts.

“Nothing you feel is stupid, Lexa. What’s going on?” He pushes and he’s always been the more compassionate one between he and Gus and Lexa can’t keep this inside anymore.

“I wish Clarke was here,” she murmurs and even as she says it, she feels her cheeks flush. Daniel sighs. He puts a hand on her shoulder.

“That’s not stupid. You love her. It’s alright to miss her,” Daniel says and Lexa bites her lip.

“I let her go this time. I don’t have the right to miss her,” Lexa replies and it’s true. She can’t miss someone she had the opportunity to keep but instead, she played a risky game of catch and release and she lost.

“Of course you do. I think the real question is, what are you going to do about it?” Daniel asks and Lexa shrugs.

“There’s nothing that I can do,” Lexa complacently responds.

“Either you can sit here and you can mourn the love of your life or you can go get her,” Daniel says, his eyes lit up with passion. Lexa laughs.

“What? Fly to England and find her? That’s….fantasy. Nothing like that happens in real life,” Lexa tries to laugh his suggestion off.

“I think the only way you heal is if you either get closure or you get the girl. Your choice,” Daniel says with a shrug. From the doorway, where Gus has apparently woken up from his nap, says,

“He’s right,” and Lexa is surprised because he’s never been a big fan of Clarke. “He’s always been an over the top romantic but I’ve never seen you more miserable in your life, Lexa. If she’s what’s going to make you happy, you owe it to yourself to try,” Gus explains and Lexa can’t believe this.

She can’t just….go to England. She doesn’t even know where she is. It would be a wild goose chase.

“I don’t even….she could be anywhere in England,” Lexa offers as an excuse.

“Oxford’s a small campus. Chances are, she’s living there. Go, find her,” Daniel encourages and suddenly, Lexa can’t see any reason not to.

(Well, besides work, but her boss has always been a fan of her and she’s sure she can swing it as a work trip).

Lexa, carefully, hands Alexander to Daniel. She throws her hands in the air. “Fine. I guess I’m going to the airport,” Lexa says and Daniel smiles.

“Go,” Daniel says and before she’s out the door, Gus stops her. He shoves a few hundred dollar bills in her hand.

“Be careful,” he says before he kisses her on the cheek and gestures to the door.

She stops by her apartment only long enough to pack a single suitcase.

The entire ride to the airport, she’s shaking.

She’s never done anything like this before.

She’s never been so reckless in her life. But god, she fucking loves Clarke. That’s enough. It has to be.

-

She buys a one way ticket to England on the earliest flight.

Her hands shake the whole time and she can’t sleep, not even if she wanted to.

This is the most…..unrealistic, bizarre thing she’s ever done and she can’t believe she’s actually doing it.

She feels her ears pop as the airplane descends and a grin spreads across her face.

Screw timing, they were going to get it right this time.

**Author's Note:**

> look forward to the third one!


End file.
